Bronx County
by completetherainbow
Summary: When Little Charles finds out he and Ivy are siblings, he leaves for New York, not wanting to look back. There he meets, moves in, and falls in love with one Harry Potter. How will the family react to Harry Potter at Christmas? Slash! One Shot! All characters are not mine!


Charles walked, carefully into the small office building. His laptop bag began to slip off his shoulder, he noticed, so he adjusted it before running nervous hands through his hair. He straightened his tie, smoothed the non-existant wrinkles from his shirt and looked at the door before him. The entry way was small, square, and caused a small amount of clautraphobia to course through him. He stared hard at the door bell before flexing his fingers.

He was nervous. He'd just gotten this job in New York. After what had happened back home in Oklahoma. After Ivy... He understood why they couldn't be together, why they shouldn't... he hated himself for falling in love with her. He hated that she and he were siblings... it didn't stop the hurt.

He rang the doorbell to the office and waited no longer than thirty seconds before a small, bubbly looking, brunette woman answered the door.

"Oh, you must be Charles," she gushed with a thick accent. She held the door open for him, allowing him to enter. "C'mon in!" She motioned to the left of her, before stepping around him. She wore jeans and a polo, with sneakers. Her hair was in pigtails, bouncing as she walked ahead of him and waving her hand to follow her. "James' office is through here." Her accent was heavy: she didn't say "Charles" she said "Chahles"; she didn't say "here" she said "heah". It was cute, Charles thought.

She had lead him through the office. that was smaller than his aunt Violets main floor of her house. He saw only a few desks, but no one even glanced up from their computers to him.

"I'm Becca," she chattered, before opening James' office door. "James," she said, looking at the bald man. "Charles, the new guy, is here."

"Becca," James raised a brow to the girl, not looking at Charles yet, "why don't you knock? I could be busy, here," he, too, had a thick New England accent. "I could be doing anything, really. You need to learn to knock!"

Becca rolled her eyes, smirking. "Oh, please, James. It's not like you're fapping in here!"

"Becca," James said, looking scandalized, glancing, finally, at Charles. "We have a new guy here, we don't need you scaring him, or any current employees, off!"

She turned to the office, shouting, "Fapping! Fapping! James is jerking his weenie in here!" No one even glanced up, though Charles saw a few start snickering into their computers. Becca turned back to James, "See? No one cares!" She ignored James' scandalized look choosing, instead, to look at Charles. "Welcome to the family, bubby!" She bounced off to the other side of the office.

James rolled his eyes at the girl before turning to Charles. "I swear, if she wasn't so damn good at her job, she'd been fired a very long time ago." He smiled, offering his hand. "I'm James."

"I'm Charles A-Aiken," he stumbled, his voice soft, as he shook James' hand.

James doesn't bat an eye at his stutter, nodding and looking him up and down. "Well, you're centainly over dressed, if I may say so." He walks over to his filing cabinet, pulling out a paper, "Here is the order form for the polos and long sleeves." He hands it to Charles, smiling slightly when Charles looks down at the paper, "Don't worry about it for the rest of the week. Wear what you want and consider yourself lucky." He motiones for Charles to follow him.

They walk out of the office and head the way Becca was headed. He motions to some of the desks, "These are our customer service reps," Becca and another bald man are sitting. They both have headsets on and are speaking. "You know Becca, the noisy one," she didn't even look up or stop speaking when she gave James the middle finger. "This is Daniel." Daniel turned his head and smiled, but immediately went back to work.

James continued onto the next set of desks. "These are some of our listers: Andrea," a long haired, pretty, burnette, "Lissa," a short, but beautiful, black woman, "and Bronn," a tall, pudgy blonde man. They all turned to him at once. It would almost be creepy if they all didn't smile in an inviting way.

"Hi," Andrea said, waving. Her eyes were a deep brown that was warm, caring, and almost motherly. "You doing okay, hon? You look pale. I have some granola bars if you need it." She didn't have an accent from the north east, but her voice was sweet and welcoming.

He managed a shy smile, nodding.

Lissa raised a brow, "Here we go," her accent thick as they come. Definitely from the north east, "Momma-Andrea, here to kiss your boo-boos." She looked Charles dead in the eye. "Don't let her smother you. If you don't want her to smother and mother you, just say so. No still means no in this country!" She shook her head, and though her tone was serious, her eyes sparkled with mischief and her smile glittered.

"Jesus," came Bronn, "great way to meet the gang, huh?" Bronn rolled his eyes, but smirked at the now bickering girls. "I have to deal with this all day," he motioned to them, who ignored him, "I may seek refuge on your side if it gets much worse."

James smiled at the people, before motion to Charles to continue to follow him. They walked through a doorway leading into a hot room. It was bright and small. There were two large desks at the west wall, and on the east wall were large rolling shelves. Two men stood before the desks. They held cameras. Big photagraphy lights were positioned on the ceiling and pointing to the desks.

"Boys, this is Charles," James said, gaining attention from them. "Charles, this is Jay and Calib." Both men nodded.

Jay was a tall black man with bushy beard. Calib was a very skinny, very red headed man. Both were taking pictures, and neither said anything. James motioned for Charles to follow him, muttering something about "photographers" and "wanna be artists".

He motioned to the warehouse door, stating that that was where he would learn to package. He didn't take him there because he wouldn't be doing that for at least the next two weeks. James paraded him to the other side of the office.

Charles was introduced to Jerome "call me Ja-rule" McKenzie. "Shift manager," the boy, because he was super young, said. He couldn't be more than nineteen or twenty.

"He isn't a manager of anything," James whispered as they kept walking, "he's just really good at keeping track of our numbers, so we let him believe that." Charles frowned, but chose not to respond. They finally stopped at the last desk.

"Harry," James said to the person before him. The man turned around, before swiveling his chair to face the duo. "Charles, meet your desk mate, Harry Potter. Harry, meet Charles Aiken, the new recruit."

Harry smiled. "Hi, how are you?"

Charles felt his stomach flip flop as he met those emerald green eyes. His accent was British, thick, and sensual and where the fuck did that come from?! Charles mentally shook himself as he physically shook Harry's hand. The man's hair was messier than a rats nest in July and his smile was infectious. He stood, meeting Charles eye for eye, meaning he was around six foot.

"I-I'm fine, thanks," Charles said, quietly back. He glanced Harry up and down, before looking to James. James in turn, motioned to the desk next connected to Harry's.

"Here is where you will set up camp!" James said, pulling out the chair. "Harry, here," looking to the other man, "is going to show you the ropes, show you how everything gets done and make sure you understand everything. He is our number one lister, our number one trainer and our all around number one person."

Harry raised an eyebrow at James, "Number one, eh? And, that meeting about how poor my numbers were, last week was just a pep talk?" Harry said, crossing his arms.

"Harry," James smirked, "You're always number one because you actually listen to the things I say!" He motioned to the two men, "Now! Get with the training! That stuff isn't going to list its self!" He walked away.

Harry rolled his eyes before turning to Charles. He smiled again, "Sorry about that. James is... well, James. All he wants are results. And money, let's not forget money!" He motioned to the chair next to his and sat down.

Charles set his laptop bag down next to him and turned to Harry.

"Well, we've got some time before we have to begin with the training," he reached under his desk. Charles saw a mini-fridge a little off to the side. "Want anything? I've got cold tea, soda, water..." He trailed off, looking to Charles pleasantly.

"Uhm..." Charles said, nervously, "water would be fine." His accent coming out thicker than normal.

Harry nodded, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to him. Behind him, Charles heard footsteps and a sudden voice say, "Oh, I see you've discovered the endless fridge!"

They both turned to see Daniel standing behind them, smiling. He held out his hand, palm up, as if waiting for something. Harry proceeded to deposit a cold soda into it, smiling back as the man walked away.

"Everyone calls it that, because I've always got it filled. Usually with at least one of everyones favorite." Harry shook his head, but turned to face Charles in his seat. "So, tell me about yourself, Charles."

"Well," Charles said, sipping some water, before looking Harry, "there ain't much to tell. I'm from Oklahoma, I was raised in a small town and I just left the only woman, I'm sure, who would ever love me."

Harry smiled at him, though his brow furrowed. "That sounds like an awful lot to tell," Harry said, taking a sip of tea. "You were raised in Oklahoma, let's start there!" He watched as Charles frowned at him, "Where in Oklahoma were you raised?"

"Pawhuska," Charles replied, searching Harry's face for any sort of recognition. He found none and smiled a little, "How about, 'Hot-as-a-fried-asshole', Oklahoma."

Harry started laughing, his eyes crinkling and he snorted a little. "Alright, there you go. That tells me everything I need to know about where you grew up!" He sighed, and leaned back. "Now, tell me about the 'only woman who would ever love you' part."

Charles looked down, embarrassed that he'd even mention Ivy. He could still feel the love he had for her in his chest. But, coating that love was shame and disgust for himself and for her. He shook his head, "Naw, I-I couldn't burden you, with my troubles."

Harry smiled at him, gently, though he didn't see it, "I asked, didn't I? What troubles are you having?" Charles didn't respond, so Harry leaned forward, trying to get his attention. But, he stayed staring at his hands. "Alright, well, how about we play a game, huh?"

Charles looked up, confusion flitting across his features. "A game?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, a game." He sat back again, "So, I'm going to tell you a secret about me, you tell me one about you!" He waited to see if he had Charles' attention. "Alright, here we go. Hmmm," he thought for a second, before his eyes lit up, "when I was fifteen, right, I kissed a girl, and later described it as 'wet'. It was the first time I realized that kissing a girl felt about as right as kissing a horse." He looked at Charles, his eyes open and honest.

Charles felt shock run through him, but didn't let it bother him. His desk-mate was gay. Alright, that was fine. Charles didn't really care. Except, he did care. Because he found Harry to be extremely handsome. And, while that should've bothered him, because he knew him family would think him even more odd than they already did, it didn't. It didn't because his family already thought him terrible. Even though he hadn't really done anything wrong. So, in response to Harry's revelation, he nodded in understanding.

Charles thought hard about what secret he could relay to Harry. He thought about his most recent secret... the one about him and Ivy. The one about... No, that one was too taboo. He thought about maybe one from when he was a kid, but there wasn't really anything all that interesting about himself from then.

Wait, he thought, maybe... "I recently found out that my father isn't my actual father."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't question what Charles had said. Instead, he nodded to him, in acceptance and smiled. "Alright, well now that we know eachother just a little bit better, why don't you and I start with this whole listing process." He turned his chair a little more toward the computer, but still open so the other man could feel welcome. "Ready?"

Charles took a deep breath, before nodding, "Yeah, I think so."

And, he was.

)page break(

"Good," Harry said, nodding at the listing Charles just posted on eBay. "That's a great listing." He reached his hand over to the keyboard, typed a few keys, and hit enter. "There isn't really anything else I can teach you today." It was five in the evening, everyone else had left.

Harry stretched back, smiling when he saw Charles do the same. "I know, it's a lot of sitting and staying." He hit the power button on his monitor, not bothering to shut the unit down. "Ready to get out of here?" He stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.

Charles nodded, doing the same. "Do you ever get used to the rain here?"

Harry raised an amused eyebrow, while his lips quirked, "I can't say yes or no to that. England rains almost everyday." He grabbed his keys, walked over to the door, and they stepped out into the entry way. They waited for the alarm confirm the code input, before stepping outside.

Harry began walking toward his car, noticing his was the only left in the lot. He glanced over to Charles, who had turned to wave good-bye and began walking. Harry frowned to him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, causing Charles to turn back.

"I-I'm walking," he said, looking confused.

Harry rolled his eyes, before gesturing to the car. "Get in, Oklahoma." He ducked into his car.

Charles stared at the car for minute. Suddenly, the rain came down, harder than before and he didn't hesitate to rush over to the car door. He settled in sighing, as if the bane of his existance was the rain. It was just like his life to end the worst week with rain.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, turning the car on and backing out of the space.

"Uh, the Motel Six on fourth." Charles said, putting his seatbelt on.

"Motel six?" Harry asked, incredulously. "You're staying in a motel?"

Charles look down at his lap momentarily, "Yeah. I uh- this was very sudden. Moving up here."

Harry shook his head. He glanced over his shoulder, checking his blind spot before pulling over. He put the car in park, before turning to Charles and looking at him directly.

"Look at me, Oklahoma," Harry said, grabbing Charles' chin with his hand. Blue eyes met bright green. Harry stared deep into his eyes, causing Charles to wonder what he was looking for. He didn't feel at all uncomfortable, having this man stare into him. In fact, even after only knowing Harry for eight short hours, Charles felt as though he and Harry knew eachother better than anyone else on the planet. Even more so than he and Ivy.

Harry took a deep breath. "How much are you being charged, Oklahoma?"

"What?" Charles asked.

"How much are they charging you to stay there, Charles?" Harry demanded, he hand't let go of Charles' chin.

"Oh... around about seven a month." Charles said, understanding.

"Hundred?" Harry started, he removed his hand from Charles face, before gesturing with his finger tips in exhasperation. "That's a fucking rot!" He looked back to Charles. "Look, I know we literally _just_ met, but..." Harry hesitated here, looking down and back up. "Come stay with me." Harry motioned to himself.

"W-what?" Charles asked again, a feeling of dred and warmth filling him at the same time. Harry and Charles had just met. They knew next to nothing about each other. However, the way Charles connected to Harry; the way Harry seemed to know and anticipate Charles' reactions today, knew when he'd make a mistake and corrected it without being condiscending or cruel... Charles like Harry. A lot. Still... "I-I couldn't."

Harry smiled at him, "It's settled then."

And it was.

)page break(

 _One Year Later-To The Day_

Charles walked into the house, setting his keys into the ceramic bowl that was just inside of the entry way.

"Harry," he called, glancing around. There was a soft glow just beyond the hall leading into the livingroom. Charles had immediatley moved into Harry's house the day he had met Harry. Harry had told him he had too much room for one person and that he'd been needing a roommate for a while. The single story house was homey, comfortable, despite being three bedrooms. There was an almost cabin feel to it. Charles had moved into the second largest room and that was the end of it.

He followed the light, wondering what Harry was doing. "Harry-" he was cut off by what he saw.

Harry was asleep on the body cushion on the floor in front of the fire place. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just his sleep pants. One of his arms was behind his head, while the other was resting on his chest. His breath was deep and even. The firelight danced on his skin in the most tantilizing fashion.

Over the past year, Charles had gotten over his romance with Ivy. He'd slowly begun to heal and while he still couldn't forgive his mother for what had happened, he had finally forgiven himself. And Ivy, as an extension. He'd also come to terms with his attraction to his best friend. He knew that it had developed into full blown love. He loved Harry Potter, he thought. He was so happy he could say that to himself, even if he couldn't say it to Harry.

Harry shifted in his sleep as Charles has begun walking toward him. Harry's eyes opened slowly, looking up to Charles and he smiled sleepily to him.

"Hey, Oklahoma," Harry said, his voice slightly slurred from sleep.

"What are you doing here, London," he asked back, using his own pet name for Harry. He'd gotten fed up the thrid day they'd lived together, demanding to know why Harry called him 'Oklahoma'. Harry had simply said that he liked the way it rolled off his tongue. Charles had decided to start calling him London in retaliation. Harry just smiled, a slight twinkle in his eye when he delcaired that no one had given him a nick-name before. "You should be in bed."

"Mmm," Harry said, stretching languidly. His toned stomach and arms flexed with a grace that Charles could never duplicate and it caused said man to swallow as he watched them. "I can't sleep in my room. There's a leak." The latest thunderstorm had sprung about three of the damn things.

Charles nodded sympathetically. "Alright," he leaned down, grasped Harry's hand and hauled him up, uncerimoniously. "You can sleep in my room, but only until you get that leak fixed, London. Then it's back to your bed, got it?"

Harry smirked, before nodding and turning off the fireplace. "Yes, sir, Mister Oklahoma, sir!" He mock saluted.

"At ease!" Charles joked, before turning and walking to his bedroom.

Later, while in bed, Charles felt Harry shift in his bed. Harry had already fallen asleep, but Charles found that sleep escaped him. He had never slept in the same bed as Harry before. He was so nervous. What if he woke up with morning wood? What if he accidentally poke Harry with it? What if he had another wet dream about Harry, with Harry in the bed, and he started molesting Harry in his sleep? What if-

Harry shifted again, rolling over on his side and wrapping an arm around Charles' middle. Charles froze, his muscles stiffening and he forgot to breath. Harry moaned in his sleep, cuddling closer to Charles and the man had to close his eyes.

"Hmm..." Harry breathed, "Charles." He whispered.

Charles' eye shot open, he looked down at Harry. He was shocked to see those beautiful green eyes open and staring right at him. He didn't say anything. Perhaps he was dreaming.

"Charles," Harry whispered again, bringing his hand that was resting on Charles' middle to his cheek. He gently stroked the skin there, causing goose bumps to form on Charles. "Charles," he said, louder yet breathier, "I love you, Charles."

Charles' breath came out in a shudder. "Y-you w-what?" He stuttered out. He was shaking, unable to move even an inch.

"I love you," Harry said again, smiling softly, "everything about you makes me love you." He raised himself up to rest on his other arm. "What do you think about that?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, like a puppy.

"I-I..." Charles hesitated. He half expected Harry to recoil at his pause, like Ivy had when she'd declaired her love for him and expected him to do the same. He hadn't known what to say, though he was sure he'd felt it with her. When she'd pulled away from him, her eyes filled with tears and Charles had rushed to respond.

Harry looked more than happy to wait for Charles to respond. He raised a hand to brush some of Charles' curly hair out of his face. Charles watched the action, his eyes looking at Harry's serene face. He'd seen the other man mad, angry, confused and upset. He'd seen Harry happy, joyful, goofy and excited. Charles had shown his fair share of emotions and knew that if Harry said that he loved Charles... then he did.

But, was Charles ready to respond with the sentiment? Yes, Charles loved Harry. He loved Harry like he'd never loved another human. Harry had healed him in ways that Charles would never be able to repay. Charles hadn't told Harry what had happened with Ivy, only that his mother's betrayal to his father had formed a wedge between his sister (though, he'd called her his ex) and himself. That it had hastened his move to New York and his almost complete detatchment from his family. Charles thought about everything.

"Harry," Charles whispered, finally, gaining the mans complete attention. "I love you, too."

Harry smiled so brightly, Charles was sure that he could brighten up all of Manhatten. He leaned down and gently brushed his lips over Charles'. The feeling of the other man's rough lips on his made primal things buried deep down inside of him want to burst out.

But, before he could get too far, before Harry could even open his mouth to attempt to meet their tongues, Charles gently pushed him back.

"Charles, what's wro-" Harry was shushed by a finger over his lips.

"I-I have to tell you something," Charles said, sitting up. He tried thinking of the best way to say this. But, no matter how he tried... nothing came out right. He simply sat there opening and closing his mouth, mulitiple times accomplishing nothing but looking like a tropical fish. He couldn't tell Harry. It would cause Harry to leave him. But, if he didn't tell Harry, and he found out later, Harry would be upset because Charles would've basically lied to him. But, how does one explain that you had a relationship and had planned on marrying your own sister, whom you'd thought was your cousin... as if that was any better. Charles had begun to hypervenilate without realizing.

Harry frowned, "Charles," he said, calmly, raising his hands to either side face and forcing the man to look at him. Charles felt his breath begin to calm and the feeling in face return. Harry always had this affect on him. "What is it you need me to know?"

Harry's cool, calming hands on his face didn't make it any easier, but he pretended it did and Charles said, "It's about I-Ivy and me... you see... we're-"

"Cousin's?" Harry finished, trying to meet Charles' eyes.

Charles felt a slight shock course through him, "What? How did you-?"

"It's not hard to figure out, Charles," Harry smiled, but still, he didn't remove his hands, "your mother and your Aunt Violet are sisters. Ivy is one of Violet's daughters."

Charles closed his eyes, but nodded. "Yeah, but... that's not all."

"There is more," Harry urged, not sound impatient at all. He sounded confused, yes, but not impatient. "You can do it, Charles." He encouraged.

"Ivy isn't just my cousin," he began, he was surprised he could still speak. Well, he thought, here goes nothing. "She's my sister." There, I said it.

He felt Harry pause, but he was too afraid of what he would say to be able to look at the man who had claimed his heart. What would he do without Harry? He would probably have to kill himself. He's father wasn't his father, he'd nearly married his sister and now the only person who cared for Charles at all was going to leave him for being a dirty sister-fucker.

But, Harry's hands hadn't moved from his face. In fact, they'd begun to slide down the sides of it and moved towards his neck.

Charles lifted his eyes to see a look of understanding cross Harry's features. Those deft fingers began massaging his scalp and send shivers down Charles' spine. Charles wasn't sure what would happen next, but he thought that maybe Harry would stay with him.

"Charles," Harry said, his fingers tightening on the back of his neck, just slightly, "this changes nothing." He leaned forward and gently brought their lips together for a small kiss. "I told you I love you. I still do. I always will. Everything is going to be okay."

And, it was.

)page break(

They still hadn't touched each other much more intimately than kissing and heavy petting when Charles got a call from his mother demanding he come down for Christmas. The previous Christmas he'd been so angry with her he'd simply called her to leave a voicemail on her answering machine and was done with it. He'd sent a package to his father and that was all.

However, this year, Harry agreed that they should go to Oklahoma to visit. While Charles had no clue as to why Harry wanted to go, he agreed if only to be done with it and not have to see his mother for the next year. He'd still not forgiven her, but after talking to Harry, he'd realized that while biologically, no Charles senior was not his father, the man was his father in the only way that counted. Charles would never forget that.

It was the year previous that Charles had learned something about Harry: the man was filthy rich. He had bought Charles the new laptop he'd wanted, down to all of the correct specifications. When confronted about it, Harry had told him that while his parents, and godparents, had all died when he was younger, they'd left him with a large inheritance that would allow him to never work a day in his life, buy a new car every day for fifty years and still be well off. Charles didn't ask how much that amounted to, but he was curious. Not that it changed how Charles felt about Harry, but math was something that Charles was good at and he would've loved to crunch those numbers.

As a result to Harry being filthy rich, he'd insisted on purchasing all of the gifts for the family. Needless to say, he'd gone overboard. He'd bought appropriate gifts for everyone, based on Charles' feelings for them, and then some. He'd had them professionally wrapped and sent off the day before, stating they'd be there when they arrived.

The airport wasn't too busy, and the drive to Osage County was cold, but companionable. Harry was always chatting, it calmed Charles to no end and he was grateful. Charles was nervous. Harry had booked them into a bed and breakfast in Pawhuska. It was run by the Dawdson family. They were nice, young and open minded. It this state, it was necessary for Charles' survival. Harry told him not to worry. His family would accept him, he'd said, and if they didn't then fuck them. And, if as a result, Charles couldn't be with Harry, Harry would just kidnap him. That had made him laugh as they reached the city limit.

After checking into the bed and breakfast, they loaded back into the rental car and made the drive to Aunt Violet's house. She, apparently sober, was hosting. After what had happened last time, Charles was a bit apprehensive. So long as no one was molesting fifteen year old girls, he supposed nothing terrible could happen.

They pulled up to the house and Charles hesitated. What would they say about Harry? Would they accept him? Would they hate him? He felt Harry's warm hand cover his. Strength, he swore, transferred from Harry's hand to his and he smiled briefly at Harry before exiting the car and walking to the passenger side. He opened Harry's door and held out his hand. He was going to be brave, like he couldn't be before, and show his family he had nothing to fear.

He knocked on the front door. Harry squeezed his hand. The door flung open to reveal his Aunt Violet. She was looking very healthy, her actual hair was grown down to her shoulders in very fine silver whisps. She didn't look dazed and her clothes were clean. She looked from Charles to Harry, and eyebrow rose, before she smiled.

"Hello, Little Charles, won't you and your... companion come in?" She held the door open for them and her eyes zeroed in on their clasped hands.

Harry was carrying the bag of gifts and smiled at her narrowed eyes. "These are for everyone." He motioned to the bag. "Where should I put them?"

Violets face showed a slight shock at his accent, before she nodded to the tree standing in the corner. "Over there, Mister...?" She trailed off.

"Oh, I'm Harry, madam," he held out his hand, "Harry Potter."

She eyed his hand for a moment, before placing hers in his. Her look of shock returned when he delicately brought her hand to his lips and brushed his lips over her knuckles. Her cheeks burned with blush as she was charmed by Harry. Well, she thought, if Charles was going to end up with a man, it should be someone as charming and sweet as him. The poor boy had had a terrible life as it was. He deserved some happiness.

Harry placed the bag next to the tree before following Charles into the dining room, where everyone was already gathered.

"Everyone," Charles greeted, noticing that while everyone had said to arrive at eleven-thirty, and they were twenty-five minutes early, they were already there.

They all greeted him with a smile, though Ivy's was strained to say the least. The smiles began to fade when Harry walked up next to Charles, grasping his hand, tightly and with obviousness.

"I'd like ya'll to meet my partner, Harry Potter," he gestured to Harry, who wore a patient smile, "Harry, this is my family."

"Hello," Harry said, smiling widely, "I've heard so much about you all." He squeezed Charles' hand.

No one said anything for the longest time. They all just sat there, staring at the couple. Ivy's eyes were narrowed at them and she glared at Harry.

The first to break the silence was, to everyone's surprise, Violet. "He is quite the charmer, Little Charles." She observed them from her seat. She then motioned to the two empty chairs to her left. "C'mon now, sit. We can't let all this good food go to waste."

Harry was the first to move, choosing to sit next to Ivy, rather than Violet. Ivy stared heavily at her plate. Harry noticed this, but chose to do nothing to ease her discomfort. Instead, he focused on Charles. He was the only person in the room who really mattered.

Still, no one said anything, until Barbara finally asked, "Is anyone going to say grace?"

Violet nodded, glancing at her brother-in-law with disdain, "As... riveting as your last prayer was, Charles, I think that someone else should do the honor this round, don't you?" She barely held in an eyeroll, before turning to the man's son. "Little Charles, as you're the last to arrive, why don't you lead the prayer?"

Charles nodded, tilting his head down and clasped his hands together. He still felt Harry's presence next to him and he smiled, "Dear Lord, thank you for this bountiful harvest on this beautiful Christmas day. Thank you, Lord, for the New Year and the past year. Thank you for all of the accomplishments this family has achieved in the past year. Please, Lord, we pray for many more. And, finally, Lord, thank you for all the love this family receives. The love we receive from eachother and from our friends and other loved ones. In your name, we pray for another year of love. Amen." He heard a murmured 'Amen' from everyone else before lifting his head.

He reached for the of stuffing in front of his plate and scooped some from the bowl before adding some to Harry's plate. The whole room was quiet again and he glanced up to see why no one had said anything.

Everyone's eyes were on Harry. His eyes were closed, his head was still bowed and his hands were still clasped. He was obviously still praying, and no one was willing to ask what he was doing.

Charles glanced around the table, noticing that everyone was getting uncomfortable. He frowned, realizing that Harry always did this, prayed before dinner and while it didn't normally take this long, the previous year he'd done the same thing. Charles noticed that Barbara was going to ask what he was doing, but Charles shook his head and continued to scoop food.

Everyone noticed this and began dishing up food around Harry, allowing Charles to serve food that he knew his lover (soon to be, at least) would eat. Just as he was loading up the sweet potatoes onto both plates, Harry looked up and smiled at the plate of food.

"Thank you, Oklahoma," he grinned at Charles.

Charles grinned back, "You're welcome, London." He could feel everyone looking at them, so he continued, "Who did you ask for blessings from this year?" He reached for his fork and began eating.

"Well, my parents, obviously." Harry said, digging into the food, delighting in the flavors, "My godfathers, as well. Then, there was Fred, he loved the holidays. I also prayed he watched over his brother George. I asked for Tonks to spread her love to Teddy and his grandmother, Andy. They really miss her this time of year, you know." He tried the potatoes, relishing in the gravy. "This food is amazing."

Violet smiled, realizing that Harry had been praying to all the people he'd lost in his life for love and blessings, "Thank you, dear." She said.

He looked at Charles, who was eating his food carefully. He didn't want to spill. Harry sort of hoped he did. It was one of the endearing things he did, and Harry loved him for it.

"Wait, I'm lost," Jean said, looking at Harry with confusion. "Who were asking blessings from and why?"

Harry smiled at her brazen tone, "My family."

"Yeah," she said, understanding, "why?"

"Well, they're all dead," Harry said simply, causing everyone to stop eating to stare at him.

Jean's eyes opened to a comical size, causing Charles to smile. "O-oh, I'm uh... I'm sor-"

"No," Harry held up his hand, "it's alright. You had absolutley no idea. I have come to accept their deaths. However, during Christmas I ask for love and blessings from them."

Jean looked down at her plate, before back to him and she nodded. "I get that, Harry. I'm Jean, by the way. I'm Little Charles' second cousin."

Harry nodded to her, "It's very good to meet you."

She smiled, "This is my mom, Barbara, and my dad, Bill." She motioned to the two people flanking her.

Her parents looked a little like deer in head lights at the introductions, but they nodded politely. He nodded back, taking a sip of wine. It was a bit dry for his liking, but said nothing and simply allowed the alcohol to wash over his taste buds.

"I'm Charles," came a quiet voice from the other end of the table, "Charles' father. My wife," he pointed to the woman directly next to Violet, "Mattie Fae, is Charles' mother."

Harry nodded and smiled to the two, though Mattie didn't even acknowledge him. She stared daggers at her son, and continued eating.

"My other daughters," Violet continued, ignoring her sister, "Ivy, my middle child, and my youngest Karen." Ivy didn't look up from her plate, but Karen smiled at him in what she was sure was a seductive smile. "Well, now that we have the introductions over with, tell us about yourself, Harry."

Harry whiped his mouth, politely, before responding, "Well, I used to work as a lister at the same department that Charles works at." He motioned to his partner, "But, I recently found out one of the organizations that I started over back in England is hitting some troubles, so I had to quit and fly out there a few times."

Bill looked interested, "What organizations did you start, Mister Potter?"

"Harry, please," Harry responded. "I set up privately owned orphanages for children. They have a ninety-three percent adoption rate, on average." He sounded proud, but not smug. And he should, for that was a high percentage of adoption.

Babara's eyebrows rose. "That high of an adoption rate?"

Harry smiled an nodded. "Yes," he took a sip of water, "we take any orphaned child, so long as we have room."

Mattie Fae looked very interested in her food, but she asked, "How do you set up these orphanages?"

Harry looked to her in surprise, before smiling softly, "Well, I ask my investors, first, if there are any properties that are available-"

"Investors?" Karen asked, a small smile on her face, "What, are you rich or something?"

Harry shared a small smile with Charles, "Or something." He cleared his throat before continuing, "Then, when we find adequate space we make sure everything is up to code and we prepare the neighborhoods for the children."

"How do you prepare a neighborhood," Violet asked, genuinely interested.

"Well, we clean it up, pay for roads to be paved and houses to be repaired, that sort of thing." Harry waved his hand vaguely, "Then we start bringing the children in. After a year, children become available for adoption."

Jean frowned, "Why does it take a year?"

Harry smiled at the girl, "We have to make sure they're healthy. Make sure they're mentally stable to be sent to live with a family and make sure they want to be adopted."

"Why wouldn't they?" Jean asked, taking a sip of her milk.

"Well, a lot of factors. Usually the children become accostomed to the conditions they were living before they come to the orphanage. So, it's a process to get them to want a family." Harry responded, finishing the last of his food. "Not everyone wants a loving family, Jean. That's where our caregivers come in."

Jean nodded, thoughtfully. "Oh, I get it."

"You," Karen said, "must have such a generous heart, Harry." She pushed her hands into her hair.

Harry smiled back, ignoring her attempts at flirting, "Well, I lost my parents at a young age. I was only one and I know that the foster care system and orphanages of the world need help. My parents and godparents left me with... a large inheritance, you could say. I want to do something that will matter to people, and I have the money to do it. So I am."

Charles smiled, knowing how Harry was when he talked about those kids. "You are doing something, Harry," he wrapped his arm around Harry and pulled him closer.

"So, are you with him for his money," Ivy asked, eyeing the arm he had around Harry.

Harry felt Charles stiffen, and heard Charles' father's sharp intake of breath. Matte Fae glared hard at Ivy, before looking worriedly at Charles.

"No, he isn't," Harry said, ignoring the looks he was receiving. He instead looked at Charles, who gazed back at him lovingly. "He had no idea how rich I was when we first got together."

Mattie Fae glared at him, "And, when did you first get together, exactly?"

"Mattie," Charles senior began, but was cut off by his wife.

"No, Charles has not mentioned this... _boy_ in any of his contacts, and then he shows up with him to _our_ families Christmas celebration." Mattie Fae stated, waving her hand around, "I want to know who this boy thinks he is!"

Harry stared incredulously at the woman who birthed his partner, his eyes holding a pity for her and her contempt. She had such disdain for her son and he couldn't understand why.

"This man," Charles began, haughtily beside Harry, "is the only person who held me together when I left this soul sucking hell hole of a state!" He stood from his seat, looming over the table. "He is the only person who has accepted me completely, for who I am, and hasn't held me back from doing anything." He chanced a glance at Ivy, knowing it was a painful jab at her. He didn't want to hurt her, but he wanted her to understand that he'd moved on from they're painful break up. "He is the one who stopped me from becoming depressed and he comforted me when I found out about your betrayal!" He jabbed his finger toward his mother, his eyes blazing a bright blue. His breaths were coming out in short gasps and his fury was spent.

Harry saw the tell tale signs of a panic attack coming along and stood quickly. Harry forced Charles' body to face him and saw the panic begin to set in behind his eyes. He took Charles face in his hands and tilted his head until their foreheads touched. "Shh... shh... It's alright, Oklahoma," Harry whispered as Charles began coming down from his panic attack. "I'm here," he said, feeling Charles' hands crawl up his back and cling to him.

No one had ever been able to get Charles to calm down when he went into a panic attack. It's one of the reasons he'd had an inhaler as a child. But, here was someone who could calm him down in seconds.

"London," Charles whispered.

Harry smiled as their eyes met, "It's alright, Charles." He ignored the others. "You okay?"

Charles nodded, slowly. "I'm fine."

And he was.

)page break(

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room. The tree was decked out to its finest, with the presents underneith, and the star brightening up the whole room. Charles chose a chair and Harry sat next to him on the arm, though his body was almost curling around the taller man, as though to protect him from anything that might harm him.

The gifts were passed out, everyone getting a small pile, though Harry received none. Harry proceeded to pass around the ones he purchased for everyone. Charles smiled at the momentary looks of surprise on their faces.

The unwrapping commenced without word. Everyone thanked those each other, but all left the gifts from Charles and Harry for the last. Harry smiled to Charles, watching the curious looks on their faces at the gifts, before taking a sip of his hot chocolate that he'd gotten from Violet.

Violet was the first to brave the unknown as she unwrapped her gift from its paper confines. It was a long, black, velvet box. A jewelry box. She opened the box. Her eyes lit up at the confines. Within the box, on a white pillow was a charm bracelet. The only charm was connected to the center link. She looked closer and saw the charm had a quote on it.

Harry smiled at her squinting eyes and rose. He knelt by her and pulled the bracelet from the box and began to wrap it around her wrist. "If there is no struggle, there is no progress." He whispered to her. "Fredrick Douglas said this, Madam Violet. Don't forget it." He looked into her eyes, "It's white gold, so it can be worn in water. Consider it a good luck charm." He grasped her hand in his. "I hope you have more struggles, just not with any that you've had previously."

She smiled up to him, "I hope so as well." She shivered when she felt the bracelet settle. She could swear it warmed a little too hot, but when she adjusted it, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Jean looked at her grandmother with a small smile before opening her own gift. It was a book. 'Crime and Punishment by Foydor Dostoevsky'. She felt a frown appear between her brows before looking up to Harry, who had sat back down next to Charles. "Uhm, thank you?"

Harry chuckled, "It's a good read. Charles had mentioned that you're a vegetarian. When you eat an animal you are ingesting their fear?" He questioned, but at her nod, he continued, "Well, I thought perhaps you'd be interested in what happens in a persons mind when they commit a murder and cause the same fear in humans."

Jean blinked before what he said settled in. This was acutally a great gift! A smile formed on her lips, before she looked down at the book with renewed interest. "Wow!" She opened the book with haste and began reading the first pages.

Charles Sr. smiled at his neice, and began opening his gift. It was a small card holder, black, and when opened he saw a note inside. Upon reading it, he realized it was a vacation, for one, to a lake he'd been meaning to visit for the fishing. It was only for two nights, and while there wasn't a date put on the card, it would pay for both nights along with food, board, and fishing gear and boat rental. He looked up to Harry and Charles, who were smiling at him.

"I thought you could use a weekend away, Dad," Charles said, rubbing his hand on Harry's arm. "Just make a reservation whenever you want and say you're using the gifts certificate."

Charles looked to Harry, who had a twinkle in his eye, before nodding. "Thank you, boys."

Barbara looked to her husband and they both opened their gifts. Barbara opened hers and looked confused. It was two pairs of white, satin, gloves. She looked at Harry confused before she heard her husband gasp. She turned to him in alarm. Bill was staring down at his gift. In a glass casing was The First Folio. A first edition complete works of Shakespears Comdedies, Histories and Tragedies. It was in near perfect condition. The glass was air tight, but had a locking mechinism on the bottom and was able to be unlocked with a combination.

Bill looked over at Barbara, who also wore wide eyes of excitement and confusion, before they both turned to Harry.

"It was in my families vaults, funny enough," Harry said, taking another sip of hot chocolate. "I have no need for it."

"There are only about two hundred and thirty still in existance!" Bill exclaimed, standing and walking over to Harry, "This is too much, it's worth over twenty-four million dollars!" He thrust the box containing the book towards Harry.

Harry smiled, before pushing the book back to Bill, "I have vastly more, things worth more, than that in my vaults, Bill." He then looked to Barbara, "Please. Keep it. I don't want it, nor do I have use for it."

Bill was shocked, looking between his wife and the Englishman. But, he caught her eye and a note of understanding crossed between them. Harry was attempting to save them. He was trying to save their marriage in the most perfect way. By giving them something to bond over. He nodded, absently, before reaching the couch and sitting. When they got back to Colorado, they'd be going to the proper rooms to look over the first edition.

Karen smiled from her seat, before eagerly opening her gift. Was it gold? Diamonds? A yacht? Her gift wasn't large, so it must be diamond, she thought to her self. The small carboard box was white and nondescript, and she quickly pulled off the top. Inside was a picture. Of a cat. She frowned down at the picture. Looking up, she saw Harry smiling kindly to her.

"His name is Finch," Harry explained, "he is currently being taken care of by your neighbor in Miami. He is very sweet, declawed, and craves attention." His eyes became big and passionate. "He was kicked out of his house and was starving in the street when we found him. He needs a good home, from a loving, sweet person."

Karen felt her heart break a little at the thought of someone kicking out a poor little kitty. She looked down at the picture again, the small black cat looking pitifully at the camera. She smiled a little. A cat. Harry and Charles had gotten someone to love her and for her to love in return. "Thank you, both." She responded. "I'll love him, forever."

Mattie Fae opened her gift, carefully, and looked at the book. 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' was the title. She turned over the simple, leather bound, book. She glanced up to her son and his... friend. What was this supposed to be? She'd never heard of this book before. Her questioning look caused Charles to roll his eyes.

"You'll find it interesting, at least," Charles said, not willing to look to his mother any longer.

Mattie Fae opened it and saw a synopsis of the book on the first page. It was a book about people who built a utopia based on some man's dream only to have it destroyed. She glanced at Harry, who was looking at her with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. He knew she had expectations for her son and when he didn't meet those expectations, he disappointed her beyond words. And, apparently it was obvious to anyone who knew what to look for. She felt shame hit her, hard, but when she met Harry's eyes, she saw understanding shoot through them. So, he understood even. Perhaps... he might help start a true relationship with her son. Mattie Fae looked down at the gift she'd received with a new appreciation.

Ivy had already unwrapped her gift from the paper, but had yet to open the black box. Like VIolet's, it was black velvet, but unlike hers, it was square. She glanced to Charles and Harry, before taking a deep breath and opening the small box quickly, like ripping off a bandage. Inside lay a gold necklace with a pendant, much like Violets. The pendant was a large gold square with a quote engraved in it. "Forgiveness is the final form of love," she whispered, reading it aloud.

"Reinhold Niebuhr," Charles said, not rising from his chair, but watching as his former lover stared at the necklace with trepidation.

Ivy looked up to the two men, their eyes accepting to... something. Something she couldn't and wouldn't try to name. She looked back down to the necklace. It was so simple. She knew what they were doing. They were trying to force her to do something that she didn't want to do! She didn't want to forgive her father! Nor her mother! Her sister didn't deserve her forgiveness, nor did her aunt! None of them deserved forgiveness for anything!

But, then they didn't really need it, did they? They hadn't really done anything in regards to the relationship between Charles and herself. In fact, if they hadn't intervened, she'd probably still be with him... and he'd still be weak and astranged. She looked up to Harry, who patiently was waiting to see what she would do. The quote wasn't to get her to forgive others. This gift was a chance for her to forgive the one person who deserved it the most. Herself. Ivy looked down at the necklace, tears forming in her eyes. Did she deserve this? Should she be that selfish? Was it weak to do it?

"The weak can never forgive," Harry's voice suddenly sounded, causing the entire room to look to him. "Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong." Harry looked her up and down, "You seem to be very strong to me."

Was he reading her thoughts, she questioned quietly. But, looking back to her gift, she shook her head. She must do this, she thought. Shaking, Ivy pulled the necklace from the box. Pulling open the clasp, she wrapped the chain around her neck and closed it. The weight settled on her chest, just above her heart, and she felt both heavy and lighter. Forgiveness wasn't something someone did lightly, she realzed. Ivy knew that while it would be a while, she just might survive.

Charles leaned his head on Harry's side, inhaling the scent he found there. He was happy, he knew, that his family was accepting of Harry, even if only because he had given them the things they truly needed.

"Happy, love," Harry's voice filled his ears, quietly.

"Yes," Charles responded.

And, he was.


End file.
